


They Call Her Mad

by LadySerenade



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Solevellan Hell, Time Magic, post Inquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySerenade/pseuds/LadySerenade
Summary: A story about a mad inquisitor and the people who tried to burn her. A post Inquisition Solevellan Hell-Verse story. Non-canon with all the drama and romance.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Back Story for Aspen Levellan (For any who care to know)
> 
> Aspen was born a Dalish Elf, but was taken from her family when she was a young child. It was a horrific night for the Clans, she hadn't been the only child taken. She was sold to a Magister, and then given to his wife as a present. She had a better life than most slaves, and her gift was discovered, and kept secret by her loving Mistress Sophrania. She let her work the gardens, Aspen had been naturally gifted at helping her plants to grow. It wasn't until she grew lovely that she knew true horrors in her life, and the evils of her world. When the summer home of the Magister burnt down, she escaped into the night with her only friend among her fellow slaves, the magister's blood-elf Rho Mahariel. (Yeah the hero, I have a lot of time to think and I think about Dragon Age a stupid amount of time. [Ask me about my Hawke]). It took her years to reunite with her clan, dark years that she never talks about. She says those were the years she didn't exist. She was sent to the conclave as an observer, and this quite unassuming girl gets labelled as Herald, and then Heratic. She was a puppet head of the Inquisition. The only thing she'll ever tell you was she wanted to help people, she never once claimed divinity, nor wanted to be in the spot light. She led because she thought she could save people. 
> 
> I never got the pleasure of playing Trepasser, so in my h. canon I just say Aspen disbanded the Inquisition long before the events of the expansion cause fuck it why not? But also Solas did remove the Anchor in a chance encounter as Aspen tracked him through the wilds.
> 
> Aspen had a reputation of doing odd things as the Inquisitor, making strange choices and generally doing things that made little sense to anyone. When it was found out about Solas true identity rumors flew about her being his tool the whole time. She was arrested by what little force the Chantry still had.

_He had never sat so close to her, they were practically leaning on each other. Her heart thundered so hard she was sure he could hear it, smell the excitement in her. He wore a sad smile and an ancient look. When he lifted his hand to her face she was sure she would turn pink top to toe. She wasn’t sure why but she closed her eyes. Cool lips on her forehead made her gasp, and he chuckled at her._

_“ Hush,” He says with laughter still dancing in his throat._

_“Such a gesture from you, in these woods. Well I could think I was dreaming,” She says in her quiet voice. Everything about her was soft and small. She was just a slip of a woman, mostly hair and eyes and low pointed ears. How could this woman ever be a leader of an Inquisition? They had turned her into their pawn, their figure head. She was a healer, an herbalist, a naturalist. She did not belong here in this world of chaos and death. Chosen of a Maker she never wanted to know._

_“May I ask you something personal?” He wonders to her._

_“You are already being familiar with me, I won’t deny you one answer.”_

_“If you believe in no gods, why would you tarnish your face for them?” He asks in a tone that puzzled her. Angry, perhaps? He was tracing the lines by her lips with a smooth thumb. She felt herself blushing, and she pushes his hand away, only to replace it with her own. As if she was trying to hold his touch there forever. She turns away from him slightly, then looks up to the moon for guidance._

_“When I journeyed back to these lands, after my flight from the Imperium, I wanted nothing more than to be free all my days. To never have a shem look at me again and think ‘I can take her.’ The clan took me in, and I felt safe. I did this to frighten away those who believe bad things about elves,” She explained to him. His face seemed to harden at this, his anger very clear this time. He cradled the back of her head, a decision made in his eyes as he leaned in and took her lips with his._

 

                She woke in a cold sweat, petrified into complete stillness. She knew she couldn’t sit up too quickly, having her magic syphoned had wrecked her body with pain and weakness. The chains she wore were so heavy some days she though they would crush her. They were taking every precaution with her, and any day now they planned on building her pyre. She was a false prophet, a dark witch. She was the lover to the Dread Wolf and they would punish her. She no longer had the anchor, her body was ruined and her heart torn asunder. She was easy bait now, might as well already be dead. She knew poor sweet Josephine was probably causing a political nightmare over this, Sera would maybe round her friends, her dear Varric was probably pounding on the doors of the prison. She knew though that none of this mattered. She was already defeated. Why shouldn’t she die here? She would always be hunted now, it was only a matter of time. Part of her knew it would always come to this.

                She was afraid. So much so she was sick with it. She would shake and vomit and scream until her throat ached. She tried everything she could to break her chains, but she simply did not have the power. She did not want to die. She thought constantly of trees and an open fire. Of the distant sounds of thunder and the feeling of mist on her face. She wanted to be free again, she wanted to run and feel the wind stream her hair out behind her. She wept with this want, held onto it like a beacon. In her life she had seen such wonders and strange wonderful places. She supposed she could be considered lucky to have had the chance. An elvan slave turned prophet, it was an extraordinary life. Yet in all of it she rarely remembered being free. Choosing things that only mattered for her, trodding exactly the places her heart yearned for. She started to chant it like a prayer.

                _I do not want to die._

 


	2. Tempest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited reunion. Also a major surprise. Yes I am playing around with how magic works in the DA universe and it's very canon twisting.

She was out of time.

She thought the market would be rioting, begging for her head on a spike. The actual sight of her had the opposing effect, citizens started to weep. She was much smaller than any of them thought, like a decapitated child being dragged in irons. It was a silent procession, she was so exhausted she could not even walk, her heels were dragging on the stones. Aspen felt the wind stir and was moved to tears. In her last moments she wished it to storm.

The guard picked her up on the platform, and set her right at the feet of Divine Victoria. She looks up at her friend and laughs. Did it really come to this? Her death was certain. Cassandra had never liked her, never trusted her. They defied each other at every turn.

_But hadn’t they once been friends?_

Oh yes, they had been friends. Dragon slaying and card playing sisters in arms, but little seemed to matter anymore. She was not Inquisitor Levellan any longer, little Aspen was of no use.

“Cassandra,” She says in her disorientation. “Isn’t this how we met?”

Cassandra’s face twitches, she gets to one knee before her. The crowd kneels as well, the advisors, it was ridiculous. They followed her blindly. At least Aspen Levellan would never have to take the knee again. She would be ultimately free.

“I’m so sorry my friend,” Cassandra says. “I cannot stop them this time.”

Aspen is distracted by a light shining in her eye. She looks up, the buildings are overloaded with people all here to witness a burning.  That’s when she sees her, hanging upside down like a spider. Right under the balcony. Her instincts shift and she sees a distinct head of horns. Cassandra goes to follow her line of sight, but the chaos is faster.

“Archer!” A guard shouts, the sound of bows being drawn is drown out with the sound of a thunderclap. It is a deafening other worldly sound and Cassandra is cursing next to her. The crowd is stirring and fleeing. She tries to see what has happened. Did Sera and Bull set off an explosion? No. Her eyes spot that familiar sickly green and her heart stops.

Hysteria.

“Fen’ Heral,” A young elf says to her left. It ripples through the crowd. She was in a chantry robe, her eyes ignited with fire.

Screams are heard all around as Aspen scrambles towards Cassandra. The crowd surges away from Solas as if he were going to turn and eat them all up. He was in his true Elvhen form, larger than life to them all, decked in furs and bones. The Trickster God here to save the witch.

“No,” Aspen whispers. Something is happening to her, she is flooded with her own power, the irons around her body shatter into fragments.

“Divine Victoria,” He grits out. His voice clear through the mob. Cassandra is on her feet and stands in front of Levellan.

“I should have known,” She snarls. “Did you not think we would be ready for you?”

“This is merely a projection of the Fade,” Solas tells her, the Chantry brethren on stage all swearing about blasphemy. Aspen knew this legend of Fen’ Heral, when she was a girl it had been her favorite. He could appear in many places at once, the only way to stop him would be to strike the true one. Solas had to be nearby, the flesh and blood she wanted to tear through with her teeth. She was buzzing with power, but her body could not support it. Her fingertips were dripping electricity. Where was it coming from? Could it be his proximity, or…?

“She is already half dead Solas, what more could you possibly want from her?” Cassandra asked more quietly. The projection looked at Aspen, there was no emotion there.

“She belongs to me,” He tells her flatly, he walks to the platform causing the priest and guards to scatter.  Cassandra didn’t blink.

“I will never stop the hunt for you,” She promises. She is not willing to test his strength, knowing that if she did innocents would die here today. She had taken a risk even attempting to let them take and burn her. Aspen was not the only one who had given up hope that he would come for her. She had prepared for this outcome as well.

“Don’t let me ever catch you again Levellan,” She says turning towards her friend. “I hope we never see each other again.”

Aspen nods her head, then, she is gone. Vanished in a moment, causing more screams of terror. Cassandra knows however that she simply jumped through the fade, she must of somehow still have the power, or was this all Solas’s design? A quake of fear ran down her spine, what was the Elvhen god capable of?

 

 **oOo**

 

She came gasping into air inside of a tunnel under the city. The projection of Solas was racing ahead, she called after him in a voice addled with weakness. She feels her insides burning her, there is too much magic, it needed to be released.

“Shiney?” It’s Sera’s voice. Aspen turns and watches the elf shimmy into the drainage canal. “Come on let’s get out of here!” She should have known her friend would find her, that she would risk everything to try and free her. But she was too late, she couldn’t go with Sera this time.

She remembered a time that seemed too far away, when Sera and her had been mischievous and young. Unbroken. There were nights they would stay up until the stars vanished, trading stories and laughter as easy as breathing. The pranks they would play and the dances they had shared were the times in Skyhold she held most dear. She would treasure those memories as long as she carried on, but they were no longer her reality.

“Sera why are you here?”

“To save you, dumb shite!” She shouts angrily. “Shiney don’t go with him. Please!”

“Why?” She asks. She knows, of course she knows. Aspen feels her heart fracturing, knowing that none of them could possibly understand. Her friend was crying in anger.

“Lookit what he’s done to you!” She exclaims, grabbing Aspen’s stump of an arm and practically throwing it back at her. “He’s going to kill you!”

“Sera I have to go,” Aspen says instead. Her head is throbbing, her body pulsing with a hidden power she didn’t yet comprehend.

“If you leave with him,” Sera says, looking at her boots. “We aren’t friends anymore.”

It sounds like something children would say. Aspen feels her chest contract painfully, like it’s going to cave in on her. “I’m sorry,” Aspen tells her companion.  

For the second time that day she watches a dear friend turn into a bitter enemy.

 

**oOo**

 

 The projection of Solas will not speak with her. They are met outside the city walls by a group of young elves and a team of horses. The ride had been hard and long. It had taken them several days just to reach the outpost, from there it was the coast. Then where? Would she ever actually get to see him? Once she was with the others the projection left her. So had the magic. She was still drunk with it for days, sick with it for a week. Eventually she started to wonder if she would have been better dying off in prison. When would it all stop?

The other elves were afraid of her. She was fed and her wounds were cleaned, but there was no conversing with her, though plenty of whispering about her.

She could no longer take it.

“When do I get to see him?” Aspen asks the girl who always comes to fetch the water. There is no response, so Aspen says it again, but louder. She repeats herself and repeats herself until she is shouting. She starts screaming at all hours of the night, refusing her meals, she attacks a guard for good measure like a feral animal. She feels suffocated, like even though she had her freedom she was a slave again. She remembers the projections words, that she belonged to him. She sets her tent on fire next, and is infuriated when they erect a new one around her as she sleeps. There is no fighting back from them, they start becoming terrified of her. _Let them_ , She thinks savagely. _He will come to me or I will burn his army next._

It only takes three days of her torment for a hush to fall on the crowd. Aspen’s blood starts pumping faster, her magic increasing in her too small frame. She cackles in laughter.

“Come to me darling,” She growls. When the tent flap opens she springs on him like a wildcat, roaring like a creature too. He staggers back from her and they crash to the ground together. The shock on his face is evident as she rakes towards his cheek, fingers like claws tearing the skin. She reaches forward and sinks her teeth into the tender flesh where neck meets shoulders. The ground rolls underneath them as the skies turn purple and horses start screaming. The people scatter all about her.

He however, surpasses her strength and flips their positions and she is painfully pushed into the dirt. The tears are hot on her face and his blood warm in her mouth.

“Is it true,” He growls at her, one hand held above her head as the stump of her arm is held to her side. She laughs and cries, not answering him. “Tell me if it’s true!”

“It’s true!” She shrieks back. His grip lightens, eyes struck with the power of her admission. How could it be? They had only been intimate once, it was so long ago. Unless…

“It’s impossible,” He says, he rolls off of her, sitting in the dust and burying his face in his hands.

“They’re killing me, if that eases your burden. And you are planning on killing the world your children are to meant to inherit,” She tells him. She has not moved, she has no feeling in her body. For a blissful moment it was like she was floating.

“Even if it were possible how could they survive?’ He asks, eyes raking her emaciation.

Once he had called her Moon Dancer, now he wondered how her broken body could carry life. She laughs at him a little, making him glare. That old stern look he would give her when she would fall asleep during council meetings.

“I tried to kill them,” She tells him in her cold anger, her brittle pain. “It appears I am chosen to host the parasites until they devour the rest of me. The carcass you left,” She accuses him. He stands and turns his back on her, but she did not miss the look. She was so sure, there was something there. He was holding back, she was sickened with her own need, even now, to get through to the man she loved. If she could save him though, she could stop this impending oblivion.

“Them?” He asks her, finally registering her words. “You can feel more than one?”

“Twins, I think,” She answers in a small voice. Twins born from conception in the fade. They were surely demons, surely an abomination. Solas kneels back down towards her, his face has softened and for a moment he looked like hers…

 

**oOo**

_The desert air was crisp and sweet at night, Aspen danced around the fire with the other women. They had found a clan of elves out here, though they spoke no similar language, they welcomed her and Solas with open arms. They were even warming up to Dorian and Bull. Everyone was…relaxed. It was nice to see the freedom of laughter and giddiness of the moonlight take over. There were performers with staffs of flames and dances that moved and shifted the winds. Solas watched her the whole time, he was hungry for her and it made her excited. They had long crossed the line into lust, but he always stopped himself, he never let himself surrender to her._

_Aspen wanted him badly, her heart ached for him. His smile was lazy and his face looked as though caught in a dream. She left the group and dropped beside him in the sand. He laughed at her and caught her against him. She was breathless and brave, going for the kiss, not caring if her companions saw them together. Solas accepted the gift of her lips, and tonight he felt less guarded then he usually kept himself around her. She turned more into him and deepened the kiss, purring in the back of her throat. It seemed to undo him for a moment and his hand gripped the back of her hair, holding her prisoner to his will. Her mind raced, she had never been with a man of her own choosing and her nerves turned her silly, rubbing shamelessly against him. He groaned slightly and pulled her to sit next to him instead of nearly in his lap._

_“You should get some rest Inquisitor,” He says formally, made more intimate by the fact that he was trying to catch his breath._

_“It doesn’t seem like you want rest,” She teased him, and he kissed her again. She had dreamed of this moment so many times, only to wake panting and alone. She wanted him in the flesh and blood, She let her fingers graze his length through his cotton pants. He hissed and let out a shaky laugh._

_“Don’t be lude,” He chides her, but he doesn’t move her hand away. She grips him tighter and moves even closer. She wanted him so desperately she almost could not control herself._

_“Perhaps you should punish me for my lack of discipline.” She challenges._

_He laughs at her, a low throaty sound that heats her all over. Her chest is heaving and he is watching her so closely, leaning in and grazing his nose on the side of her neck. She is shuddering as his tongue traces it next._

_“I can smell your want,” He says as if he is slightly surprised by it, though his own desire is clearly visible. Aspen is waiting however, thinking this cannot last much longer. It was a habit of his to work her into frenzy and then walk away. Sure enough he stands next to her in the sand, making her heart sink. Then his hand extends down to her and she is sure that this must be the Fade._

_“Are you sure?” She asks foolishly. Though she feels if she doesn’t give him the out, that he will come to regret her, and nothing would break her more than that. But there is that laugh again, and he does not falter._

 

**oOo**

He was reaching a hand towards her. She stared at it, not wanting to look at his face again. Sera’s words were playing in her head. Was she right? Would Solas be the death of her? Or perhaps it would be more than just him, but also the lives growing inside her. She put her hands over her womb, Solas tentatively reaching towards her. She was aware that they were all watching them, their god and his lover.

“Don’t touch me,” She says in a small voice, watching that shaking hand drop. His face was unreadable to her as she stood and backed away from him. “I do not belong to you.”

“Aspen please,” He nearly begs her, but every step he takes only makes her retreat further.

“What will you do now Fen’ Heral?” She demands of him, watching him flinch at the use of his name. “You’ve destroyed the world, you’ve destroyed me!”

“I tried to stop you,” He says back, anger mounting as quickly as hers. The elves around them started to flee, fearing for their lives being caught in the raging storm. “I never asked for your heart.”

“Ever the great deceiver,” She sneers. “If you were not such a coward none of this would have happened. If you would have told me who you were I could have fixed everything before it began! Did you think I would fear you? The god whom I used to call to in the night? I thought you would save me but you have damned us all. You may have never asked for my heart Fen’ Heral, but that did not stop you from stealing it in the night!”

He was on her before she could flinch, one hand fisting in her hair and the other possessively clutching at the front of her dress. She screamed in true fear then, not knowing where his wrath would lead. He could feel the magic crackle along her skin, shocked and awed at the ferocity of it. Was it stemming from the budding lives within her? She barred her neck to him, like an animal in submission. As suddenly as her grabbed her, he let her go. Ashamed of himself, a shame that ran as deep as his own blood and marrow. He fell to his knees before her, causing Aspen to gasp in surprise. She was not the only one. All around her the people were making their own noises of shock, crying out and pointing to them. A god kneeling before the shadow of the Inquisitor. For the second time in her recent memory, all around took the knee. Solas was clutching to the hem of her gown, his face buried against her stomach. The twins called out to him, and she nearly fainted with their surge of power.


	3. Rho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't stop writing today, I just couldn't, this story is fleshing out and I am having fun! Also you get too see an old face and meet a ...new old face? 
> 
> [Trigger Warning: Non-Consentual Sex Mention, Abuse/Slavery, also the Smutty bits]

_“Do they hurt?” She asked, running her hand down Rho’s arms and the scars that littered them. The first time he had been cut she found him in this very garden, crying. He had only been nine years old, and she pitied him enough to heal him, though later they would grow into the dearest of friends. The other elf didn’t pull away. He was older now, and stronger, thirteen years to her sixteen._

_“I hardly feel it anymore,” Rho whispers to her. They were in the gardens again, next to the lilies where she slept on cool spring nights. She curled around him, holding him tight._

_“What does he do with the blood?” She wonders._

_“I don’t know,” Rho answers. He seems to be drifting off to sleep. “He always hands me off before he gets to work. Though tomorrow he told me he needs me for a special summoning.”_

_Aspen’s mind starts racing. Summoning a demon? It could be her chance. She had been planning and plotting for years, since the Magister brutally and painfully took her maidenhead. She would repay his kindness with a hatred of her own. She stroked her friends back until he fell asleep next to her, but the whole of the night she thought of ways to destroy the Magister._

Aspen flitted in and out of consciousness, the magic in her body was poisoning her. She had flashes here and there. Solas …or Fen’ Heral she should say, had carried her from the camp. She tried to ask where he was taking her but the only sounds from her mouth were moans of agony, nonsensical pleas. He put her to sleep after that, and she was swallowed up by more dreams of her long repressed life in Tevinter. What had triggered the nightmare of that life she left behind? In her mind she heard Rho’s voice over and over.

 

_She watched from the garden, able to see the window where the Magister had his workshop. The window was at ground level, the place itself lying underneath the beautiful summer home. Sophrania was in town and often left Aspen to her own devices on days like this. The other slaves that worked in the gardens paid her no heed, most of them hated her for the special love she received from their mistress, but more pitied her for the attention she received from the Master._

_Her plan was in motion now. Last night she had loosened the lock on the little window and watched it most of the day, making sure no one checked on it. When she finally saw the Magister’s large swollen head she crept even closer. Then there was the summoning of Lulu, her Mistresses fat calico cat. The animal was rather dim witted, and easily controlled by the elf. She had to pay close attention since she couldn’t see the whole of the work shop. She would have to wait until there was some sign that the summoning had taken place. Then she would set about the destruction._

_“Aspen?” Someone said behind her, startling her into losing her grip on Lulu, though the cat did not go far. She spun around to see Mona, a house slave._

_“Yes?” She said, a little too brightly._

_“The Master wishes you to attend him and Magister Tulli after dinner tonight, and said you are allowed in the house for the day. He wants you to stay out of the sun,” The girl said. She had a vicious purpling bruise high on her cheek. Aspen weighed her choices very carefully as she saw a glow from the window, a small flare of reddish light._

_“Mona, there won’t be dinner tonight,” She told the girl carefully. The other elf seemed confused at this. Aspen pushed on anyways. “I want you to warn the others. This might be our only chance.”_

_“Chance at what?” She asked in suspicion._

_“When the house burns, don’t look back and don’t be afraid. You need to run,” She said. The other girl narrowed her eyes and turned back to go inside, looking over her shoulder several times along the way. It didn’t matter, she couldn’t get to the Magister in time to warn him anyhow._

_Aspen turned back to the window and gripped Lulu’s mind once more, planting the idea that it was time to go inside. The plump cat stretched lazily and went to the window, pushing it open with her face. At first not much happened. She could only plant the idea, but what if it didn’t take? What if Aspen or Rho had been wrong and there was no summoning today? She supposed he would kill her if he learned of her plot or if Mona did manage to warn him._

_Then all the chaos erupted. She heard him bellow at his damned cat and instantly the room was flooded with an explosion of black smoke. This was it! Lulu had broken the summoning circle, the demon was free! She acted fast, running to the window to shout for Rho. She didn’t want the demon to seize control of her friend, but if it did, she could not stay and watch him turn. She had to run no matter the cost. There was a sick sound, an echo of laughter and madness. She cursed herself as she breathed in the smoke and flames shot up for a moment, temporarily blocking the window._

_“Rho!” She screamed. She dared the fire and reached her hand in the window, reaching out with her magic for signs of life. There were two heartbeats inside. But only two, and one of them was from the damned cat._

_“Rho?!” She shrieked again. Her hand was burning, and as she came to pull it back she was grasped by something slick and strong. She fell back and almost cried with relief at the sight of her friend, scrambling out the window towards her. He had blood running down both arms and his eyes were wide with terror. There was a horrible shrieking laughter behind him, howling its unearthly mirth. She pulled on his shoulders and they stumbled to their feet, already fleeing._

_“The Magister is turning,” Rho told her, almost falling again as a horrible hacking cough took over. Black smoke was coming out with each breath. She turned back and pounded on his back soundly, making him cough up blood. She was scared. Would the demon hold him too? It was his blood that had summoned it. Lulu had broken the circle however, she prayed to gods she had long forgotten that the demon had instead turned on the Magister as Rho was trying to claim._

_Her friends face was draining of blood, he started shaking and his eyes took on a red hue that put terror in her bones. She would not lose him! She would not abandon the one soul who showed her true kindness and expected nothing in return. There was an explosion from the house that knocked them both to their knees. What had she unleashed?_

_“Aspen go, it’s too late,” He wheezed out, choking on the smoke in his lungs. She would not accept this, and she laid hands on him, not really knowing what she was doing. She pushed with everything she had, and a white light shot out of her palms, going through her friend. He screamed in agony and truly started to convulse and shudder. No…no not like this._

_“Rho you have to fight it,” She said, tears forming. It had been many years since she cried._

_“I can’t” He whined._

_The front door to the house burst open and she watched Mona spring out into the street, trailed by the other slaves who worked in the kitchens. Sure enough half the house seemed to be engulfed in a raging fire. The house that neighbored theirs was spilling it’s residents too, and Magister Tulli was sprinting across his yard to come to his friends aide. They couldn’t wait much longer._

_She turned back to Rho who was vomiting blood on the grass, but Dread Wolf take her, his eyes had returned to their achingly beautiful shade of blue. He looked at her and then back at the house, and was on his feet in moments, even if he seemed to be swaying._

_“Where will we go?” He asked even as he followed her. She ran as fast as her shaky knees would take her. She did not follow Mona’s path to the streets, they would all have a better chance if they scattered. Instead she led them through the gardens to the fields beyond. From there she would find the river, and then the docks._

_“You’ll have to trust me!” She tells him, because the truth is much worst. The truth that they might never make it, and would surely be butchered if they were caught. There was the small glimmer of hope, the one whispered amongst all enslaved about the Elvhen Underground. If it was real she would find it, and from there she would find the free People again, and then home._

 

**oOo**

Her vision swam into focus, and she knew she must still be dreaming. She could still smell the smoke, and Rho’s face was still before her. But this was not the version of him that she knew. He was a man now, an achingly handsome man, the deep copper of his hair pulled back in a short braid. His kind eyes looked weary, and he had a twisting scar that pulled his once bright smile down on one side and went clear down his neck. She reached out a weak hand and laid it on his cheek, shocked when she touched real flesh and bone.

_Impossible!_

“Rho?” She asked in bewilderment as she sat up. She was on a plush bed that was covered in a wolf pelt. He smiled at her, and it was still beautiful.

“Hello sunshine,” He said gently. Sunshine, like he used to call her when they were children. She cries out and throws her arm around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Her dreams had known he was close. She hadn’t seen him in so long, though of course she knew that he had turned into a great man. The Hero of Ferelden, the elf that slew the archedemon and walked away. She had been so proud of him. He was no longer that scared little boy who cried in the gardens. He was strong and solid under her fingers.

“Hush now,” He said, stroking her hair. She hadn’t even realized that she began crying. She didn’t care where she was, not now that he was here. She knew he would keep her safe. “Everything will be okay.”

“Where have you been?” She asks, pulling away but not willing to let him go. She cupped his face in her little hand and ran a thumb down his scar. He closed his eyes and let out a small laugh. The last she knew, everyone had said the Hero of Ferelden had vanished, many even presumed he was dead.

“I was in the Deep Roads when the Breach happened, it took several long months for word to reach me, and even longer to make my way to the surface. I hadn’t quite reached it when the calling took me back to the stone. After years of trying to rid myself of the taint it almost consumed me,” He said. His eyes were haunted, as if he still heard the song of the Darkspawn.

“And now?” She pressed.

“Fen’ Heral saved me,” He said, and she pulled her hand from him as if she had been burned, her heart flipping in her chest at the name alone. “I met him in the crossroads as I was looking for another.”

“Morrigan,” She said knowingly. She had been shocked when she had met the Witch, the one rumored to have been her friend’s lover. Though it hadn’t been a rumor, which she learned when she met his son, those blue eyes of his piercing her. She reached out again and grabbed Rho’s hand.

“How was she?” He asked, though heartbreak was clearly written across his face. Morrigan had told her the truth, or so she thought. Her and Rho had been in love for a time, but he left her, and the son that he was afraid of.

“She was well, so was the boy,” She told him, making him flinch.

“I did what I thought was right,” He told her. “Morrigan and I… there was love there, but it soured. I knew, I knew something was wrong with Kieran, and when I could no longer follow her, she took him away.”

“She says you were the one that left,” She tells him.

“She would see it that way I suppose,” He responds. “When I came back to Ferelden I went looking for her again, went to our world between worlds. I was dying, that’s when Fen’ Heral found me.”

“Have you joined his army?” She wants to know.

“I’m his Ambassador to the Southern Clans.”

The admission stings, though she is not sure why. The thought of Rho, broken and used by Solas, claws at her heart. Though he did not seem broken, tired perhaps, but not broken. He is examining her, looking at her missing arm, taking in her hollow face, and she thinks there is pity in his eyes, the same pity she used to look at him with when they had been slaves. She looks to his own arms, and there are still faint lines amongst the skins, but they are so slight she only knows they are there because of their shared past.

“You can’t possibly believe in what he’s doing,” She whispers. He grips her hand tighter in response.

“You think I joined because of him?”

She looks up, searching his face, and grasping his meaning as the door to the room opens. She jumps at the sound, but their hands remained linked. Solas enters, the scratches on his face had been healing, and the bite at his neck. He takes them in, noting their closed proximity, and his face hardens. She does not move under the scrutiny, and to her great relief, neither does Rho. In fact her friend had a fierce look in his eye when he looked to the old god.

She notices something else, her magic did not flare at his presence this time and there was no stirring in her womb. She thought to look around the room, though it gave her no indication of where he had taken her.

“How are you feeling?” Solas asks her.

“Better,” She says, voice quiet and thin.

“I told you I would watch over her,” Rho snaps, and she is surprised by the vehemence in his voice.

“Right,” He says, but he does not look at him, he is only watching Aspen, and the hand she still used to grip her friend. She could have sworn it was jealousy, but why bother?

“I’m tired,” She says to break the tension. Rho looks back to her, face impossibly gentle and sweet. He tucks her hair behind her ear with his free hand and she sees Solas bar his teeth behind him, but he says no more. In fact he quickly turns on his heal and leaves them back to their reunion.

 

**oOo**

 

She awoke at a later time, though she wasn’t sure how long she was out. It seemed sleep was her only comfort anymore. Rho was still there when she opened her eyes, keeping vigil at her bedside. He was the one that told her they were in Fen’ Heral’s Keep, and that she was in North wing, a part of the building where magic was muted through the stone it was built from. It was all from the gods personal design, though Rho couldn’t say for certain why part of the place was immune to magic. She was finally granted temporary relief from the twins flood of magic, and it was not painful the way the syphoning had been. He own powers were muted too however, and the pregnancy was upon her in full force. She was nauseous and felt heavy, permanently tired. She had never pictured herself as a mother before, and wasn’t sure if she should let herself dream of the possibility now. She was afraid of the hearts beating below hers.

“You should eat more,” Rho said gently, setting a tray on the table by her bed, but the smell of it made her stomach turn.

“Surely you have better things to do than be my nurse,” She said, offering him a small smile.

“I can’t think of any,” He countered, helping her to sit up.

“Has he been back?”

“Only once, though he didn’t come in,” Rho admits. “I think he is waiting for you to invite him back.”

“I can’t,” She says thickly, and curses herself for her own tears. What was she to do? Pretend that he had not wrecked her and left her for dead? Pretend that she wanted to bear his demon children and be his kept creature? It sickened her. But she would be a liar if she said her heart did not call to his.

“You don’t have to take him back,” Rho says passionately.

They pass the rest of her waking hours in silence.

 

**oOo**

 

Her time in the North wing is strange. At first it is everything Rho can do just to coax her into taking care of herself. She slowly starts to eat again, and with that her weight gain begins. She is amazed by it at first, her body for once looking more like a woman’s than a child’s. Her small stomach starts to swell, and her breasts fill out to the point of pain. She gets angry stretch marks and her body transforms. Months pass until she can actually feel each of the babies, individually. Twins for certain, and they were draining her faster than she could replenish herself, even with their magic and hers being muted through the stone. Rho worries over her constantly, and never leaves her side. She grows to rely on him, and cannot sleep at night without his proximity.

Solas does not visit her.

She starts to hate him more vehemently. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but she feels his abandonment keenly, and she is sure this time, that it means an end to their love. If it had been real, he would be the one watching over her, not Rho. Though she is very grateful for her friend’s watchful eye.

She starts to miss the sky as well, but she is not brave enough to leave the North wing. She is terrified the magic would kill her now that the babies were forming more fully. Then the day comes where Rho is called away, and she feels like her world is shattering. How can she face this alone? There are tearful goodbyes, and he promises to return to her as soon as he can. Her already rickety heart thuds painfully as she watches him close her door behind him.

“Please come back,” She says to the wood.

She doesn’t sleep much the first days he is away, and to her shame she is dreadfully rude to the girl sent to help her during her lonely days in seclusion.

“Where is Solas?” She asks the girl, against her better judgement on one particularly trying day. The girl cocks her head in confusion. Aspen growls. “Fen’ Heral, where is he?”

“I don’t know Mistress,” The girls says, cowering in fear. It makes Aspen feel like a monster, and she tries to soften her expression. She knows she is making a mistake when she tells the girl to go find him.

He is there within the hour.

“Are you alright?” He asks in alarm as he storms her bedchamber, but relaxes when he sees her perfectly at ease in a rocking chair he had delivered weeks ago.

“Why did you send him away?” She angrily asks him. That face of jealousy emerges again.

“His services were needed elsewhere,” He comments. “Is that why you have asked for me?”

“I want him brought back to me,” She challenges, meeting him glare for glare. The Trickster growls and crosses the room slowly, towering over her. But she refuses to be intimidated by him any longer. There is a powerful clenching in her abdomen and she gasps out in pain, hands flying to cover the bulge. He looks helpless for a moment and then kneels before her, reaching for her hand. She can’t help it, the pain is enormous within her and she blindly reaches for him, clutching him with all her strength. He does not seem to mind, and after a few moments the cramping ceases.

“Is that bad?” He asks, and his voice sounds….so young. Young and unsure. For of all the time he has spent living, all the places he has travelled and seen, this was new territory. His swagger and wisdom could not help them now. She tried to right her breathing, and she realizes this is the first time they have touched with affection in years.

“I think they sense you,” She says, gasping for air at another fit of pain.

“What should I do?” He asks, she could swear he had panic in his voice. She pities him against her better judgement. She pulls the hand she is holding to her belly, placing his long fingers over the pain. He sucks in a breath, and she reaches for the other one, placing it on her other side. The pain stops, and she moans with relief.

“Thank you,” She says, but he does not move. He is staring at her stomach in wonder, eyes misting. She ached for him in that moment. She wanted to hold him, to curl up with him in her big bed and listen to his heartbeat.

She longed to kiss him.

“I won’t fail you,” He whispers, but it is clear he is not speaking to her. He reaches forwards agonizingly slow, to kiss the place where his children grew within her. The damn hormones have her weeping at the caress of his lips.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” She finds herself asking him. He freezes, and it pains her to see him retreat, to let her go and stand. His face is so open and raw, she had to push more, had to fight for this moment. “Please Ma Vhenan.”

He stops and looks at her, really looks at her, the way he used to. She remembers a thousand looks between them, the touches and kisses. The sweet caress of his skin on hers and the heat that would radiate between them in waking and dreaming hours. The way he could only belong to her, and the way that no matter how hard she fought it, she was hopelessly in love with him. If it killed her, than she would have a sweeter death than a creature like her deserved. He came back to her seat, and this time when he extended his hand to her, she took it without hesitation. She rose to her feet and pulled his face to hers. She couldn’t tell if it was her shaking or him, but she didn’t care. She needed him, and crashed her mouth greedily into his. At first he was unyielding, but she would not accept this. She bit his lip, making him gasp. When his mouth was open she delved in, and when his hands tangled in her hair she knew she had him, at least for this moment.

“Ir abalas,” He whispered, devouring her with his kiss. She melted into him, and before she realized it her hand was going to his shoulders, pushing off his furs. She was clumsy with it, and he growls and took them off for her. She wore nothing more than a simple gown, but she could not get it off on her own. When he saw her struggle he abandoned his own clothes to lift the dress away from her.

When he beheld her she halted, self-conscious of her scars and stomach, but the wonder in his eyes stopped that short. Before he could do more she was pulling him towards the bed, crying and laughing and so full of need. It was burning her through and through.

He trailed hopeless after her, relieving himself of the last of his clothing. She had only seen him like this once before in the actual flesh, and she knew she would never forget it. He seemed to be a man lost, not a prideful god. His hands roamed every part of her body, and the laugh that shook him when he felt the slickness on her thighs was making her throb.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” She chokes out.

He licks away her tears and whispers, “I know.”

She does not wait for him any longer, and motions for him to lay on his back. He complies, eyes hungry and longing. She is amazed that without her arms she is able to keep her balance, even if the motion is awkward at first. He guides her, pulling one leg over him so she can straddle his hips. His breath is as fast and hard as her own, and there is no need for foreplay, they are both ready.

She sinks onto him with a cry, having to ease in his considerable length. He hisses through his teeth and grips her hips with a bruising strength. She loves it, every moment and shuddering breath beneath her. She is already half way there, needy and too hot.

“Aspen,” He pants her name. They are hardly moving, just a slow gentle rock of her hips. Tears are springing to her eyes with her need for release, and he is in little better condition. She has to put her hand on his chest for balance, but his strong arms don’t release her, and he helps her ease up and down on his swollen cock. The litany of her name on his lips is soaking her, throbbing through her with a painful sort of ecstasy. This time when she calls out the name of the Dread Wolf he does not shy away from her. It in fact undoes him completely, and they tumble over the edge and into oblivion together.

 

**oOo**

 

They had spent their night making love, twined around each other. It didn’t make things right between them, and they hardly said a word other than that of the throes of passion. When she awakens in the morning she is aching and feels empty at his loss, for he is not in the bed with her when she opens her eyes. She should have known, and she spends the next few days in a haze of depression until Rho returns.

He brings her gifts, painting supplies and tiny seeds. 

“I get no sunshine in this place,” She complains of her little room, which is increasingly feeling like a cell. She would not be able to grow anything here

“There is a room down the hall I think would suit your needs,” He tells her. “Would you like to see it?”

She nods her enthusiasm and takes his arm as he leads her from the room. The hallway is posted with stone faced elves who bow their heads as the couple passes, not meeting her eyes. She wonders what part of the continent they are in. She had been so sick with grief and pregnancy her usually inquisitive mind had seemed to be lying dormant. The dulling of her magic too had been keeping her in a fog. When Rho opens the door her jaw drops in shock, and many of her questions are answered.

It is more than a room to grow plants, it is a nursery. The back wall was completely made of glass, overlooking the sea. Along it’s edges were cedar planting boxes filled with rich black soil that the sun shone on proudly. The walls were painted with rich colors depicting the night sky and the lights that sang over the mountains. She was shocked into a gaping giddiness. There were identical wooden bassinets, plush chairs and carpets. It was a beautiful place. She knew the paintings were of Solas’s design, but she also knew the planting boxes had to have been Rho.

He was smiling at her as she ran her hand along one of the bassinets. “Do you like them?”

“This is beautiful,” She says quietly. “Did you do this?”

“Those were a gift from my clan,” He tells her. “I crafted the boxes over time. I thought you might like something to keep you busy. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“You never have to say sorry to me,” She chided him. She couldn’t help but cry at the gesture, and he came to stand beside her, putting an arm gently about her shoulders. She leaned into the touch, using her good arm to put about his torso. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome sweet one,” He says, and they stand like that for a while, watching the sea crash into the cliffs below. “Have you seen him?” Rho asks after some time. Aspen blushes furiously as she remembers their coupling.

“Once,” She admits, and feels him stiffen beside her. Could he guess what had happened? Was he upset about it?

“Was he gentle with you?” Rho asks, and she turns away from him, letting her arm drop. Yes, he had been exceedingly gentle, but it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t filled the hole in her heart.

“Do we have to talk about this?” She asks instead, afraid to turn and look at him, afraid of what she might see. Rho sighs.

“No of course not, forgive me.”

“Where did you go?” She changes the subject.

“I went to see a friend,” He tells her. “To bring her here to help take care of you.”

“I don’t need anyone else. I have you,” She argues, brave enough to turn back to him now.

“I don’t know how to deliver a baby Aspen,” He tells her. His eyes are so distant, she knew somehow she had hurt him. She didn’t want to dwell in those thoughts. He knew the truth, why punish her for it?

“Oh,” She says. “Is she a healer then?”

“Not exactly, but she is a highly talented mage, knowledgeable in the old ways. She will be spending time with Fen’ Heral, learning what she should expect when the time comes.”

“Does he even know?” She asks, remembering the look on his face when he put his hands to her womb.

“Do any of us? You will be the first woman in history to give birth to a child of a god.”

“Morrigan,” She starts to say, and realizes her mistake by the stricken look on his face. She hadn’t meant it in a cruel way but he starts walking away all the same. “Rho wait! I didn’t mean-“

“I know what you meant,” He says, halting her. He gives her a crooked smile. “Enjoy the nursery Aspen.”

 

**oOo**

 

He doesn’t return to her that night, and Solas does not visit. She feels achingly alone. She paces up and down the hallway, checks every room. There are a number of other bedchambers and several other rooms that are completely empty. She is the only one who actively lives in the North wing. She feels stir crazy, and after several hours of no one to keep her company she makes for the stairs she spots at the end of the hall. The guards exchange puzzled looks, and one of them tries to stop her.

“You are not to leave the North wing Mistress,” He tells her, looking at her bare feet instead of her eyes.

“I’m just going for a walk,” She tries to argue.

“It is not safe for you,” He tells her, trying to steer her back to her rooms. She should have had the good sense to listen, but the months in confinement made her forget the agonizing pain of too much magic. With a trick she learned from Sera she spun around the guard, tripping him in the process and sprinting for the stairs. She laughs and charges ahead, not thinking clearly. It was a reckless and stupid move.

She practically flies down the stairs and into the hall below. The guards there look terrified, and call after her as well as she runs to the far end. She thought for a foolish moment that she was safe, she still felt muted and hazey. It wasn’t until she was in the main hall that her head cleared. It had been so long, she is shocked by the reality of her racing mind, her aching heart, the phantom burn of an anchor she no longer held. What had she been thinking? She turns back as there is a commotion from the other end of the room, her name being shouted. The magic hits her like a crashing wave and suddenly she cannot breath.

Aspen falls to the ground before she realizes her legs gave out, landing harshly on her hip. Her arm does not break the fall enough and her head cracks on the stone with a resounding thud. The world is spinning madly and for a moment she wonders if she had done it on purpose. If she were to die than the demons inside her would not be able to hold on.

The thought of her prison cell came into focus, how she had begged and pleaded not to die, how she had once been so afraid. What had pushed her so far as to come here now? Was she a danger to herself?

The world went black.

 

**oOo**

 

“You were supposed to be watching her!” Solas was shouting.

“Oh?” That was Rho’s deadly calm anger. “Are we to pretend like I am the one who abandoned her?!”

“She’s here isn’t she?”

“Because I begged you! It’s your spawn that’s killing her!”

“I will end you,” There was a snarling and gnashing of teeth. Aspen tried desperately to swim to the surface, to stop them. How long had they been fighting? How long had she been unconscious? Her foolish flight came back to her, and she wanted to laugh at them both. It had been her own doing, neither of theirs.

“Rho,” She managed to moan. They were silenced and there was cool fingers on the side of her face. Her eyes finally opened, everything was blurry and buzzing with energy. She felt drunk and hungover at the same time. “What happened?”

“You idiot,” He said affectionately, laughing and crying. Solas was standing in the middle of the room, eyes like daggers as he watched them. She didn’t care, let him brood.

“I just wanted to go outside,” She says weakly. Rho is smoothing down her blankets and fussing over her, she is sure Solas is inches away from killing him. “It wasn’t your fault,” She tells Rho, ignoring the other man. Another person enters the room, a skinny elven mage with short black hair and a kind face.

“How are you feeling?” She asks in her lilting accent, motioning for Rho to move away. He does so reluctantly as the mage comes to sit on the edge of the bed. Her quick hands pull back the covers and she presses one into the side of Aspen’s belly.

“Sick,” She answers honestly. “I wasn’t thinking right.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” The woman says, but not unkindly.

“And the twins?” Solas inquires.

“They feel strong,” The elf answers. It seems to be the words he was waiting to hear, for he storms out of the room after. They all three watch him go and then the healer turns back to her. “My name is Merrill. I will be looking over you and the bairns.”

“Daisy?” She asks, curious. Merrill’s face lights up in recognition of her nickname.

“And how was dear Varric last you saw him?”

“Pissing off the chantry and robbing everyone blind at cards,” Aspen says with a small smile, remembering him fondly.

“That sounds like my friend,” Merrill said. She then pats Aspen on the head and makes to leave, with strict instructions that she wasn’t to leave this bed until she came back.

Rho comes back to her side when Merrill goes, crawling into the bed with her and holding Aspen as she cries. He holds her long into the night, and after that too.

 

 


End file.
